Last updated 6-28-2022
Welcome back to Vitriol. Yes, it's a few months later than promised... Those of you who know details of my personal life of the past few months (and there are very few of you, by design) know that I've been on some emotional highs and lows, for a variety of reasons. This has made it extremely difficult for me to get motivated to do much of anything, unfortunately. I think I'm coping better with that now. Of course, it's also made my already bleak outlook even bleaker.
I've referred to myself as a curmudgeon for many, many years, though I've admittedly been a relatively cheerful one. My views on the human race and its future, and on the prospects for love, have wavered from cautiously optimistic to storm-cloud negative. But there was always a glimmer of hope inside, I think. And now I feel that slipping away.
Don't get me wrong. I still have fun, I still laugh, I still enjoy creating, and being with my friends. I just don't think anymore that I'll ever have any more than that, and that wound nags at me. As a darkly idealistic youth, there were two things I yearned for desperately: peace and unity in the world, and true love for myself. I reasoned that if I gained one, I could live without the other. Now, years later, I realize that I'm not going to effect the necessary changes in the world to bring about peace, but I see also that love will probably elude me as well.
Maybe this is for the best. Unwinding events that can trace their origins back to January 1997 have, over the past several months, cost me the friendship of a former lover, two other friends I held dear, and someone I believe I could've happily spent the rest of my life with. I've also suffered a staggering blow to my ego, self-confidence, and self-respect, and taken a credibility hit with some friends and co-workers.
All of which has taken a serious toll on me. For the first (and last) time in my life, I drank one night to the point where I didn't know what I was doing. I woke the next morning in a friend's house and was regaled with stories of my silly behavior. Later that day, I discovered a tender bruise on my skull just above the temple. I'm still not sure I didn't do any permanent damage... And while I won't be repeating THAT performance anytime soon, there has been damage to my psyche as well.
But there have been some positives, too. I now know who my true friends are. I couldn't have made it through some very dark times without them, and I love them deeply for it. I also know whom not to trust anymore. I know that I've erred, and while it doesn't make me evil, I must not allow myself to make the same mistakes again. I have a new apartment, and a new life. What hasn't killed me has only made me stronger. Sadly, it's also made me a little angrier, and a little more bitter, and that much more unhappy.
I suppose I'll live, though. And hey, aren't artists supposed to suffer? 'Course, I should have a few masterpieces under my belt by now if that's true... Well, I suppose I have one. I've written a song... but that's for another day. See you next month (if I manage to stick to a schedule this time ;) ... - A
Last updated 6-28-2022
